


A Weightless Creature of Air

by campylobacter



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Missing Scene, Porn Battle, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:11:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campylobacter/pseuds/campylobacter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where did Vala get that outfit she wore to Washington DC in "The Ties That Bind"? (Season 9 missing scene)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Dangerous Woman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [virkatjol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/virkatjol/gifts).



> PORN BATTLE 13 PROMPTS: "cunnilingus", "tender" & "rushed". Because Jo requested it!

"Why was Jackson's face red?" Cam asked, peeking into the open doorway of the SGC guest quarters to catch a glimpse of Vala, her back turned, kicking a military-issue duffel bag under the bed.

"Don't blame me," she scoffed, grabbing various articles of USAF battle dress uniform from the bedspread and tossing them in a drawer. "After I complained about not wanting to look like a prisoner in this drab, baggy coverall thing, he's the one who volunteered to help me pack for Washing Town."

"I bet _that_ went well," he chuckled, shaking his head at having seen the archaeologist disappear into his quarters, slamming the door. "Almost wish I could go to DC and watch the circus."

"Ooh, I'd very much like that," Vala purred, finally turning to face him as she sat on the bed. 

Cam gulped at how low her flight suit was unzipped, more than hinting at an obvious lack of upper underwear. No wonder Jackson had looked so flustered; likely he was beating off as they spoke. He quickly swung the door behind him to block Vala's exhibitionism from the SF who was guarding her quarters. "Sorry, but I gotta stay behind and write up a mission report on the wild goose chase you led us on."

"Wild?" An elegant eyebrow arched upwards as she stood and approached him. "I assure you, Colonel Mitchell, retrieving a used power coil is much easier than chasing undomesticated geese."

Good googly moogly, that sex voice. That smile. That long sliver of creamy, exposed skin. "Uhhh, mission report." He backed away, bumping up against the door. It clicked shut. "Gotta write one."

"We have three days before we leave for 'Dee-Cee'." She tilted her head to the side as she looked him up and down and up again. (His pants were too loose for her to notice his involuntary reaction. He hoped.) "Surely you can finish it in much less than a day." She sashayed closer to him, close enough that he could feel her body heat mingle with his.

"Sssure...ly. Yeah." He had to admire the way Jackson kept resisting this dangerous woman's charms, because now that he was the target of her attention, sword-fighting a holographic knight seemed much easier to handle.

Handle.

He shut his eyes to stop himself from visualizing his hand reaching into her flight suit and handling a soft, round breast. Which did a helluva lotta good when he couldn't shut his nose to how good she smelled. So damn _good_. Not exactly perfumey, but spicy, mysterious, tangy.

She stepped back to her bed, swaying her hips gently, and then unzipped that flight suit all the way down. Whoa doggies, she'd been going commando, which seemed to have been a wasted effort on Jackson. Well, _waste not, want not_ , as Gramma used to say. The next thing he knew, he was kissing her and running his hands all over that smooth, creamy skin.


	2. At Least One

Oh, this poor lieutenant colonel: so easy to seduce. And yet surprisingly tender for someone who held command, letting her control the kiss while caressing her body with light, feathery touches that intensified the building heat between her thighs. She opened her mouth wider to deepen the kiss, and then he took over, exploring her mouth with the urgency of pent-up need. When he pushed her onto the bed, she moaned in triumph and wrapped her arms around him.

"Gotta... go... write..." he whispered against her neck, his lips nipping perfect sparks of pleasure on the skin below her ear after each word. She reached a hand between them and stroked the growing firmness he pressed against her hip. Buttons. Why weren't there slide closures on those military trousers, the same as on the coveralls? His lips trailed more kisses to the hollow of her neck, then to her collarbone, then to her breasts, giving each one equal attention while his hands cupped them gently. It was divine; she hadn't been touched like this in ages.

"Don't stop, Colonel," she breathed, running her fingers through his hair.

"My friends call me Cameron," he rasped, circling his tongue around her navel.

"Cameron," she sighed, letting each new syllable form in her throat slowly, giving name to the lingering taste of his kiss on her tongue. "Undress me, Cameron."

He obliged, helping her pull off the sleeves and push the coveralls past her hips, never taking his eyes off her. "Mission report," he croaked before diving in to cover her muff with his mouth.

A glorious burst of sensation rocketed through every nerve in her body. She arched her back and lifted her knees apart to cradle him between her legs, delighted that at least one of this planet's males appreciated the taste of a woman. And this male knew his way around a woman, drawing the tip of his tongue up the folds on one side, barely flicking her clit in a tantalizing tease, then down the other side to linger at her opening with reverent, leisurely laps inside and out. It was both too much and not enough.

"Want... your cock." Even as she uttered the words, she tilted her hips upward to give him a better angle to continue what he was doing. Her head swam in a haze of pleasure as his fingers traced continuous swirls on her heated skin. She writhed as he tirelessly explored what made her respond: gentle tugs with his lips, slow exhalations of warm breath, nuzzling her thatch of curls while humming, until with a final swirl of his tongue he licked the precise spot on her clit that sent her over the edge. He lapped hungrily as she shuddered and panted while a continuous flood of ecstasy rushed and flowed inside her.

After another minute of mind-altering bliss, she stilled. He finally raised his head and looked up with a dazed, contented expression. "You on birth control?"

The question sounded odd and institutional. "I've already been born." In fact, she felt reborn, transformed into a weightless creature of air. Noting his look of puzzlement, she struggled to decipher his question. "Ah! You mean making babies?"

"Yeah," he groaned as she leaned forward to stroke the bulge in his pants. "I mean, um, I'd rather not... complicate your life. I don't have any—"

A knock on the door startled them both. "Good night, Colonel Mitchell," the SF called through the door. "Dominguez will be taking over my shift soon."

"Shit," he muttered, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Wait a minute, Staff Sergeant."

Vala felt too limp and languid to bother dressing, but made a half-hearted effort to scoot out of sight as Cameron cast an apologetic glance at her while reaching into his back pocket for a wallet and sidling out.

"Here, Finney," she heard him say just outside the door. "I've, um, assessed Ms. Mal Doran's wardrobe situation and hereby authorize you to devote part of your shift tomorrow to shopping for clothing suitable for her to wear to Washington DC. Let me know if you need more than this to cover it."

Vala smiled as she visualized the outfit from the magazine she'd wanted to order with Daniel's credit card, and promised herself to properly thank Cameron later for footing the bill instead.


End file.
